The True Champion
by Paladine
Summary: The Son of Zues faces his toughest opponent yet as he faces off against the Son of Jenova
1. Chapter 1

Note: I do not own either Kingdom Hearts one, two, or Final Fantasy. The rating may change in later chapters.

The True Champion

The Olympus Coliseum is home to the warrior, the hero, and anyone able to harness their fighting spirit. Spectators from all over the world, and occasionally from other worlds, gather here to see their favorite gladiators fight for their lives in the fabled arena. Heartless, Nobodies, monsters, Titans, and even gods are only the tip of this most dangerous iceberg. If the combatants can brave the perils of the arena, then they are rewarded with the ultimate prize.

Glorious victory. For this, men have killed, sacrificed, and died to obtain.

There were none braver, stronger, or more skilled than Hercules.

The Son of Zeus. Demigod. Wonderboy. His strength is only outmatched by the power of his heart. He's the man every man talks of in reverent tones, the man every woman adores, every child's hero, and every opponent's worst nightmare. His matches always draw legions of cheering fans from all parts of the galaxy. His skills are what make his matches memorable for his fans, and the bruises those skills bestow are what makes his challengers tremble.

A fight against Hercules was akin to fighting Mount Olympus itself.

Today, the Coliseum is packed with over a thousand screaming fans. Each eyed the enormous bronze doors eagerly, hoping to catch a glimpse of their hero. For now the battle platform is empty, but it will not be for long.

The next match is in ten minutes and Wonderboy was up next.

Philoctetes sat on a stone block across from his pupil in the Coliseum's lobby. His hoofed feet clacked restlessly against the smooth rock he was perched upon. He looked like and immensely depressed, under grown owl. The Satyr lifted his horned head slightly as he drew in another deep breath and immediately released it in a long sigh. Clasping his hands nervously, he began, for the fifth time in this hour alone, the mantra that Hercules had been forced to listen to for the last day and a half.

"They say he's undefeatable," he began worriedly.

"Ninety-eight, ninth-nine, one-hundred," Hercules said, finishing his warm up exercises and pushed himself up into a sitting position and tried valiantly to keep the irritation out of his voice, " I know Phil."

A shudder ran though the little man's furry body, making his hooves clack louder against the stone, " He's a newcomer, but no one's been able to touch him yet."

"You've told me this before Phil," Hercules informed him.

"They say he's-"

"Phil!" the hero shouted. He'd had more than enough of this.

The goat man nearly jumped off the rock, his face flushing darkly as he cast the warrior an apologetic glance," I'm sorry kid. I don't mean to go on like this, but I want you to know what you're up against here."

The Son of Zeus felt a moment's guilt, his friend was trying to help him after all, even if he was carrying it a bit too far. He knelt down to eye level with Phil and mentor and placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"I know Phil, but you don't need to worry that much. I'm undefeated too remember? Besides," Herc gave him a nudge and a wink," I was trained by the best. He wasn't."

Philoctetes sat there for a long time, staring at the floor, and considering those words. Then he raised his horned head, a bit of the old Phil glimmering in his eyes, "Yeah! That's right! You're Hercules! The best of the best trained by the best! There's not a chance in the Underworld that you could lose!"

"That's right," Hercules agreed as he gave his mentor's shoulder a friendly squeeze.

Phil had almost rubbed the soreness out of the muscle when the gong rang throughout the lobby, signaling that the match was about to start.

Phil flinched and jumped off the block, "Okay kid this is it," he ushered his protégé out the door, "remember rule number eighty-three: don't underestimate your opponent."

"I'll remember Phil," he said as he buckled on his sword belt.

As he was pushed through the doors he heard something that made his stomach lurch violently below his chest.

"Kid, I got two words for you. Good luck."

Things had to be bad if Phil actually managed a correct count.

Hercules stepped out of the dark lobby and into the bright sunshine. He was greeted immediately by the roar of a thousand screaming fans, waving humbly and offering a cheerful smile as they clapped, cheered, and stomped their feet. They screamed his name and whistled at him, causing him to flush in embarrassment.

Thanks to Phil's training, the demigod was in top physical form. He was over two-hundred pounds of raw power and strength. Iron dense muscle graced his form, revealing a lifetime's worth of punishing exercises that would have killed most others.

The Son of Zeus could smash boulders with a flick of his wrist, move the earth beneath his feet with his bare hands, and outrun most of the royal horses at dead sprint. His strength went beyond that of any mere mortal and even a few of the lesser gods.

He was dressed as a gladiator; tooled leather breastplate, bracers, laced sandals, and a leather kilt cut into strips to allow freedom.

of movement, and a short azure cape that ended at the small of his back.

Wonderboy hopped into the arena and eagerly awaited his opponent. The crowed fell into an anxious silence as Hercules drew his sword. The atmosphere was charged, making the hair in the hero's neck stand on end. Excitement glittered in the eyes of combatant and spectator alike.

Long moments passed, and nothing happened.

Then, everything was lost in a blast of glorious white light.

Several faint of heart in the crowd screamed, most shielded their eyes before the glow could pierce them. Hercules turned his head away, but not before he thought he could see bright and rotating symbols trace themselves in the air. The hung there, three of them connected, poised, before erupting into a pillar of fire that shot down into the arena like a comet. Everything brightened, and Hercules was forced to shield his eyes or risk losing his sight permanently.

As quickly as it started it was over. Hercules blinked tears from his eyes and looked around blearily as he tried to adjust his vision.

This was how he became aware of the man in black.

He knelt, less than eight feet away. The crowd gasped when their eyes refocused and they saw him rise slowly, almost gracefully. The armor he wore was black, trimmed in crimson and silver. A corona of molten silver hair cascaded down his back and past his waist. A dark cape, clasped firmly by black shoulder guards, rested around his ankles. His eyes were cold, glittering the color of frozen ice, which held far more warmth that his gaze. All of this he dimly recalled later, for it was not what held his attention.

What captured his attention, was the single black wing that sprouted from his shoulder, like that of a giant raven, extending as the man rose to his full height. He drew a long sword from the scabbard at his waist, a sword that was more than twice Hercules' size, and he was as big as an ox.

This was no man before him. Here stood a warrior. In every sense of the word.

Wonderboy wrenched his eyes from the angelic wing and asked, "Are you my opponent?"

The Son of Jenova regarded the Son of Zeus so coldly, that Hercules literally felt his heart stop for an instant. Frozen in his chest by the man's cold, emerald eyes.

"I am Sephiroth," he answered in a silken tone.

For the first time in all his experience of facing titans, monsters, Heartless, Nobodies, and even the occasional god or two, Hercules trembled.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: I do not own either Kingdom Hearts One or Two, nor do I own Final Fantasy Seven, nor any of the characters depicted here.

The True Champion

Chapter Two

" I am Sephiroth," the man replied in a silken tone.

Hercules flinched. The man's tone was final, as if he were proclaiming one of the fundamental laws of the universe. An unarguable dictum that was dark and cold. Sephiroth meant to flay his opponent alive with those words alone and instill fear deep within the hero's heart. Had Hercules not been a seasoned gladiator, he would have turned and fled the arena then and there.

Spoken like that, Sephiroth might have well said, I am your executioner.

Despite every warning bell that rang in Wonderboy's head, and there were many, he stepped forward and extended his hand in a show of respect and friendship from one competitor to another.

"Pleased to meet you," he began, "My name is-"

Had it not been for over a decade of Phil's punishing training Hercules would have died in that moment.

Swiftly, in a motion filled with power and grace, Sephiroth drew the Masamune from it's sheath and swung it at an arc meant to cleave the hero's head from his shoulders. The sudden attack caught the him off guard, but not unprepared.

Leaping backward five feet Hercules landed just as the sword completed a third of it's deadly journey. The instant he felt safe the sword seemed to grow out at him. He leaned back precariously, nearly toppling over. Even so, at it's midpoint the tip of the Masamune sliced the air less than an inch away from the hero's nose. He staggered, struggled to regain his balance amongst the boos and scattered cheers from the crowd.

Hercules pressed his hand to his face to make sure his nose was indeed still firmly attached to his face, finding that it was he fixed the One-Winged Angel with a glare.

"What was that for!" he shouted.

Calmly, letting a sardonic smile play across his angelic features, Jenova's only son dipped each word in venom as he spoke.

"I have no care as to who you are. You are not my friend, neither are you my comrade. What you are, is my opponent. Nothing more and nothing less. I will treat you with the respect and foe earns from another. Which means I will use every technique at my disposal to kill you," Sephiroth held the long sword out before him, pointed at his challenger's heart, "and believe me when I say that I will be trying to kill you"

The hero shivered in the presence of the warrior, whose chilling declaration unnerved him unlike any other. Suddenly, Hercules recalled every detail that his mentor had told him about his opponent in stark detail.

The One-Winged Angel was a legend in his own right, an unrivaled swordsman, and almost as strong as Hercules himself. Fourteen seconds into his battle with the Ice Titan, dodging deadly spears of ice, body freezing cold, and frozen meteors, Sephiroth landed a single blow that shattered the beast into millions of glittering shards. Five lightening strikes of the Masamune was all it took to crumble the mountainous Rock Titan into dust. The death god Hades limped away from their brief encounter, his black toga in tatters and his corpse-blue skin dripping with dozens of ragged cuts. Rumor was that he still couldn't get his hair to ignite. Heartless and Nobodies fell to him like smoke and ash in the wind.

Now it was the Wonderboy's turn. Twin thrills of excitement and fear fought for dominance in his heart. This would be his greatest challenge ever, testing all of his skills. The cautious side of the hero whispered to him to back down, while the fighter in him roared with the thought of the glory of this battle. Hercules embraced them both equally. He would fight this warrior, but he would keep hit wits about him as well.

Hercules grinned fiercely and drew his broadsword.

"If that's the way you feel about it then let us begin."

Sephiroth's face broke into a cruel grin of it's own.

"If you are that eager to be reunited with your father, Son of Zeus, then let us begin."

The pure sense of smug superiority in his voice set an uncharacteristic flash of anger in the demigod. The barb had cut deeply, and drew first blood.

A glow surrounded the perimeter of the ring as the magical shields rose. The crowd erupted as the glow dissipated.

The battle had begun.

They circled each other warily, warrior sized up hero as hero sized up warrior. Hercules brandished his sword openly, while Sephiroth returned the Masamune to it's scabbard. The demigod noted that Sephiroth kept a hand on his sword even though it was sheathed.

He means to strike quickly, he thought.

He did just that.

In a blinding leap Sephiroth darted forward and unsheathed his blade in a smooth motion. Hercules instinctively blocked the swing, Metal clanged against metal with a force that sent a shock up his arm. The opponents vied for control for a few moments testing one another, then they separated As fast as it had begun it was over. Sephiroth leaped backwards and returned the blade to it's sheath.

The swords flashed as their wielders tested one another, feinting and parrying as the need arose. The crowd gasped and hissed at the appropriate moments.

The One-Winged Angel lunged again and met Hercules's blade hilt to hilt. The hero was shocked to find his guard was being forced down. The rumor about his challenger's strength was obviously true. He shifted his stance and tried to throw his weight against the Masamune.

Sephiroth didn't flinch, the long katana did not drop even an inch. He pushed lightly, and the hilt of the broadsword brushed Herc's chin.

Hercules sidestepped and rolled away as the blade crashed down and left a jagged cleft in the arena floor.

Smiling coldly Sephiroth spoke, " I see."

"W-what?" Hercules asked, a little winded

Jenova's son turned to face him and his smile grew wider.

"I'm stronger than you are."

The simplicity of that statement shook the hero badly. He tried desperately not to show it.

"It's possible," he conceded after a tense moment.

"Not possibility, fact."

Hercules was shaken. Sephiroth looked weaker physically. He was less built and carried himself less heavily then the hero. Few opponents matched his strength, even fewer surpassed it, but no one had ever gotten under his skin like Sephiroth had.

'I think I've learned all I need to know. Now I shall finish you, Son of Zeus."

Then he vanished in a stain of darkness.

Never before had Hercules been so surprised. This battle was turning out to be full of them.

"Behind you kid!" Phil screamed.

Just as he felt a hot line of pain slash it's way across his back.

Hercules staggered, turned and saw Sephiroth appear in a cloud of shadow.

"Too slow," he whispered, and drew another line of pain across Hercules's chest.


End file.
